Born to Be an Example of Misfortune
by Ebyru
Summary: Loki is kind of like Jane Foster, or maybe all Asgardians are good at getting hit by cars.


**A/N: **Beta'd by phionique.

Prompt was "AU Steve is Asgardian and Loki is mortal. I know this is a ridiculously vague prompt but I just can t get the idea out of my head." for shadowsonthewalls.

Title is from Cervantes' Don Quixote.

* * *

Thor is to blame for Steve's fascination in mortal beings. He told Steve about the many great deeds such fragile creatures accomplished; the love and companionship they have; the cultures and languages they created; the obstacles they have to face nearly always.

It takes a few weeks for Odin to submit, but Steve has never asked for anything in his life – his three thousand years of existence – so he knew Father would give in eventually.

"Now, when you arrive on Earth, do not fill your stomach with sweets and alcohol as I was tricked into doing," Thor says, tone at once soft and pleading. "You will thank me for this advice later, brother."

"I am grateful for it now, Thor," Steve replies, giving Thor an easy smile. "I won't be gone for long, though. Do not worry."

Steve doesn't make it five steps before he gets into trouble.

The mechanical beast that attacked him survived, but Steve feels dizzy, and vulnerable in a way only the Frost Giants can accomplish. The sunlight feels so much brighter on Midgard, and it's blinding him, or perhaps the impact has done something to his vision.

Then, as though hearing Steve's thoughts, a figure shadows the light, making it easier for Steve to open his eyes. A man – a mortal one, Steve reminds himself – is watching Steve with a frown that only deepens when Steve attempts a weak smile.

"I don't have any bloody money to bring you to a hospital," the man grinds out. "You'd better be all right."

Steve blinks a few times, staring into the bright green gaze of the person above him. "I am…" He makes a fist with both hands, sits up on his elbows – just now noticing how many people have gathered – and rotates both ankles. "Fine."

"Good," the man says flatly, pulling Steve's arm around his shoulders. "Good lord, you weigh a ton."

Steve tightens his grip around the stranger when he feels his knees wobble. "Thank you."

In Asgard, only the finest, most powerful warriors would even _consider_ fighting the sons of Odin. Perhaps this man already recognizes Steve's noble blood from his stature.

"That wasn't a compliment. I'm not a body builder, you realize." The man rolls his eyes, half-carrying, half-dragging Steve over to the passenger side of his car. "Get in. I'll drive you wherever you need to go."

Steve nods, and then promptly passes out in his seat.

The smell of something sweet, rich and hot wakes Steve. When he opens his eyes, he notices that the sun is still out, but it doesn't seem to be setting. It's as bright as when that monster rammed him in the middle of the road. As bright as that beautiful stranger's lovely, green eyes.

"Glad you're awake. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to carry you again. I may have pulled something." He sips from a cup after blowing on it soundlessly. "My name is Loki, by the way. Can you tell me your name?"

"Steve," he replies softly, blinking the sleep from his eyes. He takes in the sight of the burgundy comforter across his chest, the dark carpet on the floor, the shelf filled with almost too many books. It's a simple and elegant room. "Where am I?"

Loki hands Steve a glass of water, and Steve takes it quickly, gulping it down. "This is my home. I would have taken you to yours, if you hadn't collapsed in my car like a damsel."

"I am no woman." Steve frowns, handing Loki back his empty glass, despite being perfectly capable of reaching the side table himself. That should teach him.

Loki scoffs, throwing Steve an unpleasant look. "I've noticed, from the amount of pain in my shoulder, that you're not. Thank you." He brings his cup to his mouth, sipping a little, not enough to burn his tongue - in case it's still hot. "Now, can you answer the question I've been asking since yesterday?"

"Yesterday? A day has passed already?" Steve sits up in bed, distressed. He's going to miss out on all the glory of Midgard if he stays in the comfort of Loki's quarters for much longer.

Loki sighs, pushing Steve back down when he tries to stand. "You were hit by a _car_. A moving one at that. I think a day is a reasonable amount of time needed for recovery."

"What is this 'car' you speak of? The monster that knocked me down? I would like to have my revenge, if you can point me toward the violent creature. You mortals cannot be safe with such a thing in your midst."

Steve crosses his arms, a serious and determined look in his eyes. Loki finds it strangely…endearing.

This maniac seems safe enough – reminding Loki of Don Quixote, and his 'giants' made of windmills – that he decides there's no harm in playing along.

"I can show you where it is-" He puts a hand up when Steve opens his mouth. "-if you tell me where you live so I can finally bring you there."

"That is not possible," Steve explains calmly. "I live in another realm, and my travels have merely just begun."

"So, in other words, you're insane. And it's because I hit you with my car," Loki says under his breath, swallowing more of his coffee. _Perhaps not as peaceful as Don Quixote after all_, Loki thinks, brows knit.

Steve frowns, but Loki thinks better of repeating what he said. Better to let the crazies do what they want, instead of ending up their next victim.

"Well, anyhow. You've kept your end of our bargain, so I guess I'll keep mine." He drags a hand down his face as he stands. Steve is a nutcase, and Loki is going to call an institution very, very soon. "Follow me," he grumbles instead.

Steve crosses his arms, tilting his head to one side then the other. "This is the foul creature from earlier? It seems dormant, even harmless. It is resting, yes?"

Loki tries not to laugh in Steve's face, turning away to clear his throat and hide his smile. "Yes, of course. When it's not in motion, I find it quite charming. Don't you?" _The number to that clinic nearby, did it start with seven or nine…_

Taking a careful step towards it, Steve leans in and sees his reflection on the glass of the window. He jumps back, stretching his arm out to keep Loki from getting close to it. Loki is startled for a moment, wondering if Steve's going to get violent with him, but he just shouts, "Get back! It's taken on my form now. I must rid your world of this beast as I intended."

Golden armour appears on Steve's body seemingly from thin air, and Loki gapes, amusement (and fear) all but gone. This – this isn't possible. He couldn't have been telling the truth about being from another realm, could he? Loki tries to remember the number of the hospital again; he should probably check himself in soon.

"Stand back, mortal. I will slay it quickly, and we will feast like noble warriors afterward."

Steve unsheathes a sword from…somewhere. Possibly from inside his knee-high, blue boots. Loki isn't exactly sure what he's seeing anymore, actually. He wonders if he didn't pass out next to the bed when Steve did. Maybe this is all an elaborate scheme his mind has concocted to punish him for hitting a foreigner with his car.

When Steve reels back to swing at the car, Loki rushes in – stupid, oh-so very stupid; don't run in between crazy men and sharp objects – and stretches his arms out, blocking his car from getting any damage. Luckily, Steve's reflexes are unbelievable, and he only _gently_ slices the skin of Loki's forearm.

The blood is faint, a tiny cut Loki barely registers, but Steve's face falls. His otherworldly attire disappears, and he rushes closer, pulling Loki's arm in to inspect the injury. His face visibly darkens, and Loki is stricken by how devastated a so-called warrior is over a miniscule cut. Seriously, Loki's had _cats_ do more damage to him. And they were supposed to be his loyal pets.

"I'm all right, Steve," Loki tells him, trying to pull his arm free. Steve holds on, pressing two fingers gingerly to the cut. "I'm fine. Just let me get a bandage inside."

Steve refuses to let go. He's hurt an innocent man – a mortal, no less – and he can't believe it took him this long to figure out Loki was mocking him.

"No, this is my fault. I should have understood that this creature belonged to you. It was protecting you from me, wasn't it?" It doesn't matter if Loki laughs or not, he just wants to make amends.

Steve looks so sullen; Loki doesn't dare tell him it's not actually a living thing.

"It's okay, Steve." He chuckles, a smirk on his face when he pulls his arm away. "I promise I won't cry over this. I'm not a damsel." He doesn't add the 'like you', but he figures the way Steve's lip curls means he caught the joke.

Steve looks down at the ground, head bowed in shame. It is forbidden to hurt the inhabitants of Midgard, and Steve is only now aware of why that rule is so important. They are fragile, easily hurt, and not as strong as Asgardians. They should be cherished, respected, but most of all, guarded. Steve understands why Thor decided to become their protector.

Loki rolls his eyes at Steve; a man who has that much bulk should not be capable of pulling off a kicked puppy look. He's going to wish he hadn't said this…"But you were also trying to protect me, so I'm grateful," Loki adds, smiling in spite of himself.

It's been a hard few years; moving out of his family home, where he knew his father never accepted him, and trying to live on his own. He's never been able to make friends like other people, and his neighbours seem hesitant to be friendly with the son of Laufey. The son who isn't going to be the heir to his father's international corporation. But Steve seems just weird enough to not care about all that bullshit.

Steve returns the smile after a moment, rubbing at his nape nervously. "I apologize for my behaviour. Is there some way I can redeem myself? I have much to learn of Midgard."

Loki snorts, lips turning up in a playful grin. It feels nice to have someone not be afraid to approach him. "I could use some help with cleaning. I work long hours at the university nearby." Steve's eyes grow wide. "If you give me a hand around the apartment, you can use my guest bedroom until you return – uh – _home_." And Loki can have more time to read his novels with the extra free time.

Eyes lighting up like fireworks, Steve places his hands on Loki's shoulders. "It would be an honour, Loki."

Loki coughs, feeling his face heat up with the intensity of Steve's genuinely happy gaze. "Right, well. First rule, you cannot, under any circumstance, destroy my car. I need it to get to work."

"Why did you not tell me sooner that it was a chariot?" Steve continues smiling, a grateful look in his eyes. He's pleased to have found such a helpful mortal. It'll make his stay that much more interesting.

"There are many types used here. You need to be careful, okay? I'll teach you about traffic lights once we get inside."

"Is that what those hanging devices are called? I thought they were simply there as decorative garments," Steve admits, trailing behind Loki as they step back inside the apartment building.

Loki lets out a long-suffering sigh, and Steve's hand instantly presses to the small of Loki's back to steady him as they climb the stairs. It's so warm and innocent; Loki can't see the harm in letting it stay there. When Loki looks back, Steve beams at him, seeming almost fond.

Loki's going to regret this, isn't he? What is the blasted number of that clinic?


End file.
